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LAND BEFORE TIME {victoria / tyrunt}

@Ralin;
look it's a pun
lmk if you have questions!
---SHARPTOOTH IS UNAMUSED BY YOUR OFFERING. PLEASE BRING ANOTHER.

The mangled body of a frillish, its blue fins desiccated, hits the ground with a gentle plop. Body fluids ripple around from the impact; ghostly tendrils trail in unbent, green blades of grass. The limp pokemon leaves tiny footprints of clear ooze on the surrounding meadow as it's hastily dragged back, and the young amaura looks up with wide eyes. Rainbow headfins ripple in the absence of a breeze, once-sturdy, stony legs are quaking. Please, Sharptooth, she whispers back, telepathic voice no older than that of a young girl. My clan has sent me with four offerings so far, and all of them have been judged inadequate. What is is that you would like?

Long pause.

UM. SHARPTOOTH DOESN'T KNOW. SOMETHING BETTER.

The amaura pauses; liquid courage seems to fill her! The temperature begins dropping as she straightens her serpentine neck, holding her head up straight as she looks up the cliff face again, where she speaker is invisible, and she prepares to--

NOW! The roar that follows is enough to blast the grass horizontal, send the frillish flying straight into the amaura's body, bowl her back even as she tries to stand her ground. She shrieks in alarm as the tantrum above intensifies; rocks sheer themselves from the cliff face and fall down around her, a snowless avalanche unfolding right before her eyes. She shrugs out from beneath the frillish and turns heel to run, stocky legs taking her far through the field, back to the snow-capped mountains in the distance. The Aurora clan might not look kindly on her failure, but she'd much rather face them than it.

As she runs, and the beast above slowly stills, she chances a glance back. From this distance, the rocky cliffs that recede into dark crags and caves still look like teeth clawing the sky; the Sharptooth lives in a lonely abode, a throne of its own creation. She's never seen its face.

If only there were a bigger dragon; maybe they could show it who was boss...!

The large behemoth of a dragon stepped from the dying grass and onto the frozen earth. It shivered, the composure of the titan crumbling within seconds. The eyes of the dragon scanned the area. For as sharp as their eye's natural design, their pupils seemed dull. Everything felt dead around it. Not that that was the case, it was quite the opposite. Life streamed in and out of them with every breath. Age riddled the body of the beast, lights pulsating. If you knew where to look, where to follow the lights, you coud find the dragon's age like rings on a tree.

This body was not theirs though. This was a chance at a new perspective, a chance to see life unfold around them. Everything felt faster, then slower, the concept of time was lost on them. Their thoughts pacing along, trying to keep up. Time moved normally, this body was not built for normalcy. The soul within was though.

This wasn't the souls body, after all. Everything felt surreal, disconnected. Stepping forward and into the mountainous terrain was much harder than it should have been. The body recoiled with every movement.

This is not my body. This is not mine.

Another step, two large towering legs now on cold ground. Then three, then four. The brisk air gtazed its skin. It snorted out a breath in shock at the temperature. Heat erupted from its nose.

The mountains were calming, a memory of a place high up unknown to them flashed in their head.

Another flash. A creature like them but not them was now running across the horizon. A smaller blue beast, just like them.

Their eyes scanned the surroundings again. Nothing. An internal shrug brought the dragon to the conclusion that they should follow at a disyant. Maybe they could help them understand how to walk properly.

@Ralin;
you are one post in!
---
The amaura runs on overlarge feet, almost tripping over the rocks and trees that seems to sprout up in her path out of the frozen tundra. She's still casting terrified looks over one stone shoulder when--

Whumph!

A bray of alarm slips out of her mouth, and she scrambles back. The fins on the back of her neck pulsate wildly, like a mood ring. Pink to yellow to red, deep red, fluttering in alarm. She looks up with quivering eyes in shock.

Her wish, as absurd as it seems, has been granted.

The amaura casts has to crane her serpentine neck upward at the behemoth in front of her, a magical tangle of time and scales and steel. It whispers of steam and fire and rage. It stumbles. There are paradoxes here that she could not even begin to understand. It dwarfs her; even the footprints that it leaves in the snowy ground are big enough for her to curl up in. She's suddenly struck with an impossible feeling of tininess and youthfulness, one that had begun when she was talking to Sharptooth but that had only intensified now.

Di... Dialga, she whispers aloud, her voice full of reverence. She bows low; frills on her neck flare out and flash pink. This is a big dragon indeed, bigger and ancienter (ancientest? More ancient?) than she could ever imagine. Is she even allowed to ask this of such a great behemoth? Is that something that's allowed?

Her other option, though, is to return to Sharptooth with another failed offering.

The thought of that retribution fills her with courage. I am named Littlefoot. When she's looking down with her head bowed low, her feet look even bigger than normal.

(Her parents, kind souls though they were, weren't very good at guessing what kind of features their children would have. Her brothers, Longtail and Big Richard, were perfect examples of this lack of foresight).

Littlefoot the big-footed amaura continues, There is a super-big monster at the top of the cliffs. It demands sacrifices from my village that we cannot make. Can you help me pacify it?

@Elysia;
bless
--
Their throat locks up as they begin to speak. Their voice was different, it hadn't left their throat, but the rumbling, the deep tearing against heir vocal chords. A rush of wind pressed against their body. (Was it from within or outside?) A grunt forced itself out of their chest. A young woman's voice ejected out of the beast. Their tongue unrolling itself as if dispensing some sort of thing that was in their food that shouldn't be there.

That was right, she wasn't this beast, she was someone else, Victoria? Yeah, that had to be it. That was the only name that came to her mind.

The voice was Victoria's but it was deepened, as if she was trying to imitate a beast of her size. It sounded more mocking than menacing.

"Sharptooth?... Village?" Both of these things felt unfamiliar. Her mind seemed to be scattered after this odd change in lifestyle. Her heart and mind certainly understood "help," though. She lowered her long neck to the dinosaur. Small. Small meant helpless. She blinked and snorted out heated breath. "I can do it myself. You'll only get in the way." She spoke calmly, quietly. Her large feet wobbled forward on unbalanced steps. Her voice pierced what seemed tobe the atmosphere that surrounded the mountain. "Take me to this... Sharptooth, I guess."

Power coursed through her, more than she had ever felt. The terrifying part was how natural it felt. Her chest pulsed. Time moved in its odd current, unphased by anything, but constantly shifting. This was the perfect chance to understand this body, to see what it was made of.

Littlefoot steps back with a tiny squeak of surprise. The voice... it sounds human. The words are spoken softly across a tongue. Vocal chords that know only roars are shaping into a common song. The voice of a child in the body of an ancient. Littlefoot doesn't know what would've scared her more: hearing the rumbling roar of a Dialga, or this.

Dialga lowers its (her?) neck down to meet Littlefoot's gaze; a head bigger than Littlefoot's entire body sizes her up. She tries not to tremble; her big feet help her stand strong! The fiery breath that ripples out when the dragon snorts sends her fins flapping in heated wind. This is big! Dialga thinks she'll only get in the way. Dialga is definitely right.

Th... thank you, Miss Dialga! Littlefoot stammers, shaking herself to try to bring back her natural cold, which even just Dialgra breathing on her had dispersed. She wants to say more; the praises and songs are pouring at her tiny mouth and her big eyes bulge at the thought, but she knows better! Miss Dialga is a creature of immense time and space and power and might. The fact that she is even spending time here, to help Littlefoot out with the hole she's dug for herself... Miss Dialga probably doesn't want to hear her chatter. But Littlefoot's bubbling in joy, big feet prancing big footprints into the icy tundra around her.

Right this way! She trots proudly back in the direction she came, her head held high, fins humming proudly in the wind like sails. Sharptooth might be big and have sharp teeth, but he had nothing against a dragon!

What brings you to these parts? Littlefoot practically sings before she remembers her promise not to bother Miss Dialga. Oops. Most people don't come here. Sharptooth is scary. He rules these lands.

Speak of the devil! The journey back doesn't feel so fast, so breathless, but somehow there they are, staring at the rocky crags of Sharptooth's domain again!

"Uh huh..." A teeny shout of a thank you goes in Victoria's ear and out the other. Massive head rises and holds their head high again. Her eyes wander the mountains around them lost. No thoughts go through her head. Shell shock, that was what it was. A feeling hung around her whole body that ached. It was like being hit by a truck.

Once she looks back down, all that is left is footsteps. Small, tiny footsteps. Vision wanders upward until glancing at the dinosaur again. In comparison to her current body, the dinosaur was small. More importantly, it was adorable. On the other hand, it looked as if it would terrify her if they were the same size. Maybe that was why the original Dialga, the one that would haunt her head, looked down on her. He had no choice with his size, and it became instinct.

Victoria raised her front right foot and threw it forward. A loud thud boomed. Oops. She tried with the back right foot. It landed much more softly this time. A sigh of relief. Her heated breath rising into the air. Then she did the same with the left side. This time, the stomp from them was something natural, something not menacing. It felt normal. This awkward hustle of a walk continued on as she followed the small dinosaur. Soon enough, they found themselves in front of a rocky cave. The small dinosaur, Littlefoot, had stopped here so it must be where they were supposed to go.

@Ralin; I'm so sorry for the delay! You've done 3 posts!
---
Craggy rocks and cliffs around them seem almost to defy gravity. Some chunks of stone float of their own accord, balanced precariously on needle-thin spires that still seem impossibly still, impossibly centered. There's a force of mystery here, of a domain of dominoes balanced on the head of a pin. Bump one too hard, and the entire house of cards will fall. Littlefoot nimbly weaves her way through the pillars of stone, but she casts a look back to see what Miss Dialga would do. Truth be told, she realizes, giggling, it would be pretty funny and badass if they knocked down all of the things on Sharptooth's front lawn before rolling in to Mess Things Up! Yeah! That would show Sharptooh who was boss!

And yet even the tallest of the rocky spires doesn't seem to reach the peak towering above them! Littlefoot can't help but crane her head to look up, even though she's been here so many times before; there's something equal parts mystical and ominous about watching the rocky cliffs vanish into the darkness that perpetually hangs over these parts.

Littlefoot doesn't have time to notice details like these; she's too busy quavering and trying to wrestle with the mix of anticipation and excitement that goes from her head to her big feet. This is it! She begins the words of the ritual. Sharptooth! she cries. I, Littlefoot of the Amaura clan, have returned with my offering!

WHAT IS IT. YOU HAVE RETURNED QUICKLY. IS THIS BETTER THAN LAST TIME?

Littlefoot looks anxiously at Miss Dialga. Surely a dragon as big and as powerful as this one will have better words than Littlefoot when it comes to initiating this exchange!

She thought it would be easy. Have the little dinosaur hide and have this immense titan-dragon body wreak havoc. She knew of Dialga's powers. She knew how capable she was of destroying, well... everything. Then she found it. The first true adversity of being in this form. Not being a klutz.

The mountain in a way, was very pretty. This made it so much harder for her to accept what she had to do. Blast. Nature rocked. Why couldn't it stay intact forever? A deep breath. She saw the dinosaur approach the other. That must have been the bad guy. The punk dinosaur messing with this sweet little dinosaur. The small one was weak, and in her eyes at the moment, slightly useless. Despite this she couldn't deny they were a little adorable. Adorable things needed protection from bigger things.

Her eyes dart down at the patiently waiting dinosaurs. The sweet dinosaur looked on with adoration, hope shining brightly. Her eyes turned to the punk. Now that she thought about it. This was it? This was the little twerp giving her tribe issues? She held back a laugh in her giant form. God. If she laughed as this beast would it sound as awful as she imagined.

She threw one heavy step forward. She had two options: Storm on through and make a scene, or waste her own life force to look like a badass and appear behind the two. Either would lead to confrontation, wouldn't it? The latter though, that would require less work in the long run, but would confuse her opponent. Heck, actually-

Her eyes widened. She threw her foot forward, crushing past the floating stones. Demolishing everything in her path. It hurt her soul to do this. It was so beautiful, so wonderful. But if she did it this way... maybe she could scare the dinosaur out of a battle. A path of rubble sat behind her. Her head lowered itself to eye level of the two dinosaurs.

@Ralin; hi! sorry for delay pls forgive---
Hey, what are you -- I MEAN HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING. I AM SHARPTOOTH. I AM BIG AND SCARY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. HEY. STOP THAT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

Sharptooth had one secret in his very short life, one that most people didn't know, which was why it was even a good secret at all: his teeth weren't very sharp. Nor were his claws. Nor was the supposed-to-be-sharp horn on the tip of his nose. Nor was anything about him, actually.

(His parents were very optimistic.)

He gave a tiny squeak of surprise when the enormous blue and gray spikes of a dragon, bigger than him, bigger than Littlefoot, bigger than anyof them peeked over the horizon and began stomping through his pretty rock formations. Oh man oh man, his parents were gonna kill him when they saw what he'd done to the place...

Um. Um. Um. Maybe if he hid back in the caves and made his voice do all the echo-ey stuff, he could sound really big again. But this dragon was so big, and he could practically feel the waves of power rolling off of her in thick, suffocating sheets AND NOW SHE WAS BREATHING IN HIS FACE... Sharptooth took a step backward and promptly tripped. With a squawk of surprise, he tried to right himself, but his head was quite large and his arms were quite small. Before he could stop himself, he ended up faceplanting straight into the ground, thick jaw plowing a trough in the rocky earth around him.

OW. NO. NO ONE SAW THAT.

Sharptooh clumsily pulled himself back to his feet -- which was quite a feat given his small arms -- and tried to play it cool. With any luck, no one had noticed any of this and they still thought he was a big and scary Tyrantrum instead of a fledgling Tyrunt!

He cleverly hid himself behind a pillar of rock where he definitely couldn't be seen, not one bit.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE. YOU ARE A BIG -- UM, YOU ARE A VERY SMALL DRAGON COMPARED TO ME. I WILL BE MERCIFUL IF YOU LEAVE AND STOP SQUISHING MY NICE ROCK SCULPTURES THANK YOU.